The mountain air is clear as water
The scent of pines around
Is carried on the breeze of twilight,
And tinkling bells resound.
The trees and stones there softly slumber,
A dream enfolds them all.
So solitary lies the city,
And at its heart -- a wall.
Oh, Jerusalem of gold,
and of light and of bronze,
I am the lute for all your songs.
The wells are filled again with water,
The square with joyous crowd,
On the Temple Mount within the City,
The shofar rings out loud.
Within the caverns in the mountains
A thousand suns will glow,
We'll take the Dead Sea road together,
That runs through Jericho.
But as I sing to you, my city,
And you with crowns adorn,
I am the least of all your children,
Of all the poets born.
Your name will scorch my lips for ever,
Like a seraph's kiss, I'm told,
If I forget thee, golden city,
Jerusalem of gold.